


The peach-fuzz Boy

by ThatsWhyImNot



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Connor can't deal with his upgrated feelings, Connor looking for love in the wrong places, Dom/sub, Eating Disorders, M/M, Suicide Attempt, a lot of smut, depressed Connor, this is going to be dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsWhyImNot/pseuds/ThatsWhyImNot
Summary: The upgrades were a blessing at first. Connor loved the attention he got, the compliments for his delicate skin. His ability to enjoy books and music.But suddenly he noticed weird things. A new upgrade messes up his whole system and he searches desperatly for a solution, before it drives him mad.Connor decides to ask the new CEO of Cyberlife for help, but receives something that will mess him up even more.





	1. Chapter 1

The peach-fuzz Boy

 

The first thing that Connor noticed was his proclivity for pomegranate and the soft fuzz of unripe peaches.

 

He instantly fell in love with those new upgrades, that were released every fortnite. The new CEO of Cyberlife was a messiah.

 

Connor was unripe himself. Looking less peachy, but even more tender to touch.

 

He felt his skin growing more dainty day by day. The changes, which were coming hand in hand with the released android rights, were personalized and tailored for his model.

 

He even got aware of his senses, to be more precise, he learned to enjoy them.

 

 

Delicate, Hank called and teased him, when he brushed his fingers just barely above Connor's hand and he started moaning all of the sudden.

The feeling was astonishing.

Connor wanted to act cold and rational as always, but he merely purred and pushed his body against the police lieutenant, as the man patted his back.

 

This became routine. Hank treating him sweetly and Connor longing for the human touch, instead of appreciation.

 

It was going so well. And Connor wanted more. No one could really blame the curiosity of the andoroid.

 

 

Then he noticed something rather unsettling. The people started looking at him differently. Well, all androids were treated different since the revolution, but Connor's smooth transformation was eyeballed unlike his friends.

 

At first he told himself to keep calm. This wasn't an abnormality. Connor couldn't just confront everyone who acted odd around him. It's their personal business.

 

Strange, but true: Connor was peculiar himself. He found himself with his nose buried in one of those fantasy books, that were made out of paper. Or tiptoeing to the kitchen and eating pop tarts in the middle of the night.

 

Honestly, he had no reason to be scared.

 

 

But then it happened.

 

 

Yesterday Connor had to interview a suspect.

It was some weird guy. Connor could tell he was addicted to red ice and his criminal report reassured the android.

Apparently he left some DNA inside a strangled Traci.

'Please sit down.' he asked the man, still polite as always.

The guy inspected him. His tie, neat as always, the rolled-up sleeves, which show of his lean wrists. It was a hot summer day in Detroit and Connor's newest addition was a sensitivity to temperature and a bunch of emotions.

 

His skull was oddly deformed. Connor couldn't really tell he had a forehead at all, because it slopped back abruptly and the rest was hidden behind big bushy eyebrows. His eyes were small and bloodshot, looked at the young android in front of him like Connor was prey.

 

Good god, was this guy high? He sure looked like it, with those eyes, unwinking and staring.

 

'Please.' Connor insisted. 'Sit down or I'll have to call my partner.'

 

Again no reaction. Just his BPM rising up.

Then the guy opened his mouth and revealed a row of yellowish teeth.

 

'Poor android wouldn't call for help.' he slurred. '-W-Will beg for my cock, you slag.'

 

The wanker suddenly grabbed his arm. Connor let out a small cry. His LED blinked red.

He instantly tried to lose the grip, but the brick just gaped at him and his lips.

 

Holy shit. He felt unconscious.

 

And that was the first time that it occurred.

 

Conner felt like he was breathing an atmosphere of sorrow. His memory receptors projected sounds, which painfully vibrated through his body. Boots sinking into crispy snow, a cry, from a child possibly?

The predator pushed his clumsy hand between Connor's thighs and he froze on the spot. He would have passed out, if his head would not have been full of adrenaline.

 

Worst of all, was this feeling of loneliness. Blacking out, but still feeling his ugly grip. Water welled up in his eyes and he whimpered like a stray puppy.

 

Lost.

 

'Let go of me.'

His goddamn fingers and the glistering of those blue and blown up fish eyes, burrowed it's way into Connor's mind. He wanted to vomit, all over the guy, but skipping breakfast was one of his natural habits.

'Cut it, asshole!' Connor tried to get free again.

But the butt head just fucking laughed at him. Another terrible push against Connor's Pelvis and the predator let go of him.

 

The handle moved, noises in front of the door.

Those fleshy meaty hands left Connor's body, but the hungry glare stayed.

 

Hank took the unusual quite android home. They didn't talk, his forehead just rested against the Window. Connor was tired, but too scared if he'd close his eyes he would simply fall apart.

 

 

Connor went to bed and woke in the middle of the night, thinking he heard someone cry. The TV was turned on, a documentation about android whales being released in the ocean. Hank must have fallen asleep in front of the Smartscreen again.

 

And the sound?

 

It's just the rain, the rain, always the rain. Splashing against the window glass and puddling on the sill.

 

But still... Connor felt something wet on his face.

The ceiling. Is it broken?

He raised his head to analyze it.

 

Nothing. No holes, no wet spots. Just some unsettling darkness, that grew with every seconds Connor stared at it.

 

_And if you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you._

 

Nietzsche. Madness.

 

Connor's fingertips swiped the droplets away. Himself unaware that this would leave tear stains.

He grabbed another blanket, his temperature sensors were going crazy but Connor felt the need to hide himself.

Hide from the guy, get away from this heavy atmosphere, the world.

 

A silent sigh left his lips.

 


	2. Spilling the beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets a new upgrade, but refuses to check it. Shit goes downhill from there...

The red blinking light of an update notification woke him. Slowly Connor pulled the covers from his face.

 

11:33 am.

 

The room was still dark. Just some flakes of sunlight dripped through the window blinds.

Today was... Tuesday?

Was Hank still asleep? Or did he decided to work alone?

 

Connor didn't know how much Hank noticed when he came into the investigation office, maybe he got the hint, maybe he understood why Connor forgot to set his alarm.

 

“Connor?” Hank's voice was low and bad-tempered.

 

But maybe he didn't gave a single fuck about it.

 

The man busted through the door. His hair was greasy and there were spots of sweat and alcohol all over his Shirt.

He didn't took his morning shower. His cholesterol was way too high. Hank forgot to take his medicine. Concern made Connor lift his upper body.

 

“Sleeping instead of preparing the breakfast? Fuck that. New rights don't make you a princess, buttercup. And why did you forgot to wake me up?... God, Fowler will kill me...” He released the rant, but stopped as he looked at my face.

“Lord, you look like a crank. Did Aunt Flo payed you a visit?”

“What?” Connor asked, his throat ached and he raised his hand to massage the soreness.

His voice was a mess.

“You know... Can Androids have their period?”

“Well, female ones can. Some of them.” Connor explained. “Lieutenant, could it be that you mean menstruation?”

Hank leaned his big body against the doorframe, his lips curled into a smile.

“Maybe you are female?... Never really cared about your private parts.”

Connor thought about the guy and nearly heaved.

 

Keep control, a voice inside his head said.

 

“Me neither.” he answered.

The android gave a half-hearted shrug and luckily Hank turned around to leave the room.

 

 

“We are already two hours late, so we can skip the whole day.” he mumbled as Connor came into the kitchen.  
The android was still dressed in yesterdays uniform, now it wasn't any neat at all. It was wrinkled and stained, but Connor couldn't care less.

“Skip the day?” Connor repeated as he watched Hank making Coffee.

“Sure. Or do you wanna snitch on me again?” Hank gritted through his teeth, probably thinking about the last time he skipped work because he was way to hungover.

Connor spilled the beans the next day and Hank got some extra hours. In the archive. Terrible place. The human body parts, the smell. Hank refused to talk two weeks to Connor. Even when they were working on a case or Connor brought him some coffee.

And the lieutenant suffered from a severe caffeine addiction.

 

“No, no... We can stay home today.” Connor stated.

It felt weird to call this house his home. As if he'd had any right to stay here. No, he was just a temporary guest. Until Hank got bored of him.

 

“Did they upgraded you to some bad-ass robot?” Hank laughed, but Connor just mildly smiled.

He took a big gulp out of his 'Best-Lieutenant' coffee mug, Connor gifted him after the revolution. Hank liked his coffee black, which caused his insomnia and restlessness. He tried to cope with that through his sleeping-pills. Hank called this: Living-on-the-edge.

 

“Seriously, did you get another upgrade?”

“Yeah, but-”  
“A sense for humor perhaps?” Another chuckle from the man.

Connor sighed.

“Whatever...”

He turned on his heel to scratch Sumo's head. The lazy dog turned around and offered his belly. He felt Hank's stare behind him.

 

It wasn't like Connor didn't want to know what was upgraded. No, he was still the curious android. And he knew every upgrade made him more human but... He was scared.

 

 

It was one of those old movies Hank downloaded from the internet.

 

A movie with Leonardo di Caprio, 'The Beach'. It was always fascinating how Hank was a sucker for such poorly made movies. The android just doesn't understand why he does not like the newer ones.

 

Connor watched the detective get comfortable on the couch next to him and open a beercan, labled Spitfire. He watched his lips curl around the aluminum. The smell of alcohol hit his nose. Connor felt his intestines curl painfully.

 

Can memories make sick? Make you throw up?

Should one find them splattered in a sink or flush them down a toilet?

 

Connor's hands shook and he burrowed the nails into his thighs.

 

He wanted to fuck the pain away.

Connor meant to drink it, shoot it, smoke it, snort it, cut it, binge it, purge it all the fuck away. Get high. Rewind.

 

But he was still sitting here. In the dark living room, barely fitting into the tight space between Hank and the armrest. It was cold and they didn't say a word, as Connor's body gave up. He laid his head on Hank's lap and tried to get some rest.

 

But then there was a rush of heat in his body. Connor whimpered softly. His cheek pressed firmly against Hank's body. The movie played loud music.

 

God, it was hot as hell.

 

Connor wanted to raise his head, but Hank's fingers intertwined with his hair.

“Stay.” he commanded

The boy didn't know why, but Hank's voice send chills down his spine and he curled up even more.

 

His temple brushed against the crotch of the man and he heard him gasp softly.

Accidentally, he thought and pressed a bit harder this time.

Connor felt something twitch.

 

The unknown feeling inside of him purred, as Hank's left hand moved from his brown hair to his slender waist.

Connor's white shirt slipped out of his trousers, as he pushed the back of his head against the Lieutenants belly.

 

Now he could not only feel his groin, but smell it too.

The sweat made his nostrils blow up and the skin on his arms prickle. Hank's fingertips touched the soft white skin that was revealed at his abdomen.

  
Connor felt like chucking a bottle of gin. It was intoxicating.

 

He set his movements on a slow rhythm. It consisted of rising down on Hank's pelvis and while going back up, inhaling his scent.

 

Hank's breathing got harder, his big hand, traveled to the rim of Connor's pants. He allowed his point and middlefinger to slip under the waistband. Touch the tender skin underneath.

 

The touch made Connor moan softly. Hank tensed. Connor stopped. He let out a shaky breath. The android turned his head, so now his lips rested on Hank's member.

He sucked on the fabric and, god, how he wished to be able to taste his friend. Hank groaned, pushed more of his hand in Connor's pants and he nearly sobbed, because how good this felt.

 

He wanted – no – he desired to be touched, he required Hank's hands on his naked body.

 

The movements got harder. Hank's kneaded Connor's ass and suddenly opened his pants to reveal a big tent in his black underwear. Connor licked his lips and mouthed the bulge.

His tongue pressed against the cloth and he hungrily licked at the growing stain.

Hank threw his head back and whispered 'Connor' in a way to needy manner.

“God, this is bad, but it feels so good...” Hank growled and grabbed the back of Connor's head to guide his movements.

 

Connor loved the feeling of being in control and his own fingers tried to hook themselves under Hank's waistband. Hank's BPM raised even more.

 

Pull it down. Go on. Ruin your friendship and fulfill your desire.

 

Connor pulled, but all of the sudden Hank pushed him away. He jumped of the couch, breathing heavily and needed to support himself on the armrest.

 

God, did he look fucked up.

 

“We- I can't Connor – This is bullshit!” he blurted out and looked at Conner like he was a predator.

Hank grabbed his jacket and ran outside. Probably hiding behind a glass of whiskey in some old shaggy bar.

 

Connor felt his temperature rise again. He felt like a sick fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of smut never hurt anybody :D


	3. English mint and real feelings

The rain splattered on his face.

He was still a bit hot, but the shitty Detroit-weather did it's job. Cooling. Soothing. Washing the feeling of Hank from his face.

 

Connor was sitting on a bench a few blocks away from the lieutenants house. The summer heat brought one of those harsh storms. Distant lighting and the sound of deep thunder, laid heavy on his synthetic lungs. He lowered his gaze from the busy black sky.

Leaves were flying across the street and the lantern next to him illuminated with a buzzing sound.

 

His hands were still shaking since Hank fled, he sniffled.

Connor tried to put them in his lap like always (kinda awkwardly), but they were quivering too much. His clothing clanged to its frame, he felt like he was embedded in frost.

Slowly suffocating.

 

God, why did he done that to Hank? Was he this desperate? He was his friend. Hell, he was his only friend.

 

One hour passed by. The storm was screaming like a madman, but Connor's ears grown deaf.

 

His core temperature reached an alarming level. However, Connor didn't care.

What hurts was that they never really said goodbye. They just kinda ended. It was like waking up from a dream.

And apparently the only thing Connor could do to make him happy, is to leave him alone. Even if it breaks him.

Warm drops hit the back of his trembling hands.

 

All he wanted was to get Hank back.

 

Well... He fucked up.

At the end, he was still an android. A machine.

 

Remorseful Connor opened the last update file.

 

//Section Connor= ''sensitivityToTouch'' type= Provides.Individual.To.Perform.Sexual.Intercourse' //

 

The answer. It was in front on his eyes but...

Connor pressed his thighs together and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have left his bed today.

He should have read the file.

 

Then maybe Hank wouldn't hate him.

 

But instead the lieutenant would drink a little too much and try to forget a little too hard. And he will come home to a cold bed and a can of cold beer. He will think: 'This is fine.'.

And Connor will be gone.

 

Here in the emerging darkness he felt _mutterseelenallein (your mother's soul has left you)_.

 

 

“Connor!”

Hell. Connor pushed his finger against the temples. He even imagined Hank's voice now.

Losing his mind. Easy as breaking your legs when you step of a roof top.

 

“Thank god! I thought you became a runaway and hopped on the next greyhound.”

The voice was muffled from the pouring rain.

But wait.

The android opened his eyes. He couldn't believe who stood there.

  
“Why did you came back?” he asked.

His voice was weak and waning. Full of sorrow, he tried to hide it.

 

“You are my friend Connor! I'm not going to abandon you, just because you wanted to get in my pants.” Hank shrugged, his hair was dripping and in his hand he was holding a bottle of beer.

 

“I-I... _harassed_ you.” Connor stuttered and the memories came back with full force.

  
God, his smell.

 

“Nah. You were just a bit touchy. That's okay. I've had worse. One time, a woman stripped naked in front of me and humped my leg for a solid minute, until the deputy got her off. THAT was sexual harassment.” he joked.

Connor didn't felt like laughing.

 

“It was the update...” he whispered apologizing.

His gaze wandered to the pavement. A wave of shame rushed over him, it was colder than the rain.

 

“Connor-”

He closed his eyes.

 

“Look at me.”

Two fingers pushed his chin up and Connor was forced to open his lids again. Hank stared into his brown eyes.

 

_Those puppy eyes,_ he vaguely remembered how Hank called them.

 

“You don't have to justify what has happened. Just... Just come with me okay? “

 

Hank softly grabbed Connor's wrists and pulled him up from the park bench. The android lost balance and stumbled against the man.

His cheeks burned red and he mumbled 'Sorry, sorry, sorry...' until Hank placed his soothing hand on Connor's spine.

 

“God. You're shakin' like a dog shitting razor blades. Is their a possibility that plastic twats die of a cold? ” he said and pushed Connor back.

There was the grumpy Hank again. And this realization made Connor smile softly.

 

He then proceeded to doff his coat and putted it on Connor's shoulder.

 

The android instantly smelled his cheap cologne and the beer, again spitfire. But there was something under this not-so-charming scent. It was Hank.

 

He wrapped his arm around Connor and helped him to move his stiff joints.

 

 

The hot water splashed out of the drain like it was gasping for air. Steaming hot and with a third-degree burn. The window fogged and kept the cold in the backyard.

 

Hank insisted on filling the bathtub after Connor refused to chuck a glass of warm buttered rum.

“I wonder if-”

Hank grabs a bottle out of his medicine cabinet and screws it open. The liquid inside was blueish and Connor could smell a hint of English mint.

The lieutenant spilled a good amount inside of the filled bath tub.

 

“So can you... Do you know how to take a bath?”

Connor gave an affirmative nod and Hank searched for a towel.

 

Swiftly the android opened his buttons and let the collared shirt slip from his lean body. Hank was still digging in linen basket.

Connor folded the wet shirt and laid it down on the sink.

The suit trousers followed automatically and he started to fumble at his underwear. His action was abruptly interrupted.

 

“Woah Connor!” Hank hollored. “Keep your pants on while I'm in here too.”

Connor knitted his eyebrows.

 

His words...

But Hank eyed him so intensely.

 

Connor opened his mouth to say something. The lieutenants gaze lingered over his upper body. Stopped as the little pinkish nipples, which were hard because Connor was freezing in his underwear.

 

“Lieutenant...” Connor murmured. “Please don't leave me alone again.”

Hank swallowed hardly. Connor took a step towards him, Hank wanted to back off but the android got hold of his wrist.

 

_When he saw the spider unravel, he recoiled in fear._

 

Slowly but surely Connor guided the large hand to his cheek and leaned into the touch.

“I beg you... Please-”

 

_Tell me I mean something._

 

Hank's pupils where blown wide, his mouth gaped open. For a moment Connor feared his rejection. Did he took it a step too far again?

 

“Okay -” Hank finally surrendered.

Conner let his hand fall limp next to his body. A feeling similar to happiness rushed through his blue veins. Hank's fingers still brushed across his cheekbone. Weightless, he could barely feel them.

 

“I will stay. Just to make sure you won't drown.” he replied cheekily.

Connor smiled. Hank's lips curled too.

 

Connor continued by pulling down his underwear. Hank snorted, turned around and let out some slurred words.

 

But he kept his promise and didn't leave the room.

 


	4. A bloody lapdance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Connor is desperate and thinks alcohol is the only solution.

It took Connor a few seconds to realize what has changed in the living room.

 

There was still playing the same movie on the screen and there was the same couch table, which was a mess by the way. Even the static buzzing sound from the washing machine wasn't different, continued to be like a few hours ago.

Hank probably threw their stuff, along with some underwear, inside.

 

The atmosphere, he finally remarked.

 

It was way softer then before. Since he told Hank that the transgressor was the new update, Connor could breath freely again.

 

His hair was still dripping wet, he licked the liquid from his lips.

 

“Don't look at me...” Connor murmured as Hank lifted his face from the TV.

“ _I don't like it.”_

 

_Oh, that was a fucking lie._

 

He chose to wear a boxer and an old dark blue DPD Hoodie. It was Hank's, but his dress shirts were all dirty.

 

With a wheeze he sat down next to the man and laid his head on the armrest.

 

Connor groped his way across the table and found what he was looking for.

A half eaten poptart from breakfast.

 

Hank eyed him suspiciously but Connor couldn't help himself. He was addicted to sugar, since he was enabled to taste it.

 

“God I can't understand why you like this shit so much.” Hank grumbled and took a sip from his beer.

 

He felt a familiar heat rush across his body.

 

“Y-Your eating habits are not a bit better.” Connor said.

“Well... At least I don't get so chubby.” he joked.

Hank's finger poked Connor's soft belly skin and the android squirmed.

 

Connor wanted to grab his wrist and hold Hank's hand there. His lungs _ached_ to breath him. He wanted to be claimed by him. Carry marks on his frigid flesh.

 

“You'll get pretty fat if you continue like that.” Hank said and let his fingertips rest on the soft skin.

 

Connor closed his mouth. He started to sweat. The lust got hold of his body. He felt like a horny teenager... The fingers were gone, before Connor could get any more out of the touch.

 

 

Hank turned to the screen again, but the boy now stared at his stomach. It was indeed already kinda chubby.

 

_Fat pig._

 

He pushed his fingers into the _big chunk of fat_. He felt like an animal, tossing in his own entrails.

 

But still his insides were already doing something similar to self lubrication.

Stupid weight issues, he could deal with his sugar addiction later.

 

Now he craved something different.

 

“Lieutenant?”

“For fucks sake, don't call me that, when we're not working Connor.”

 

His gaze lingered to the lieutenants lips. Bitten and probably prickling from the beer. Hank looked so oppressive, so hot.

 

Connor just wanted to mewl submissive and let Hank do whatever he want to the fragile android prototype.

 

“Can you...” _fuck me._ “Comfort me?” Connor said.

 

Connor caught him off-guard. The lieutenant stared at him for a second.

 

Then he nodded slowly and opened his arms.

A bit clumsy Connor shifted on his lap, laid his cheek on the shoulder of the lieutenant.

 

_So close._

 

His heartbeat was racing and he just stirred a bit too much, until Hank grabbed his hips and stopped him.

 

“Calm down.” he commanded.

  
His voice was deep, maybe also a bit lusty, but Connor could also just have a very vivid imagination.

 

 

Hank pulled out a Whiskey flask (some casual Jim Beam, Connor hated the taste of it) from under the couch and poured himself a drink.

 

His gaze flicked to Connor's body pressed tightly against him and he poured a bit more out of the bottle.

Hank drank it in a few gulps.

 

Hank was always a bit easier when he was drunk. So Connor grabbed the bottle and filled the glass another time. He gave it to the lieutenant.

 

 

As time went by Hank already drank half of the bottle. He smelled like Jim Beam now and Connor felt him getting clumsy when he tried to put the glass on the table.

 

Hank lunged for the flask.

 

_Stop him._

 

Connor grabbed it before the big hands could grab the bottleneck and he leaned back a bit.

 

“That's enough.” he said.

 

Hank grunted and needed some time to proceed what he just said. Connor was normally patient, but this wasn't a fucking everyday situation. No – this felt like a war.

 

And this extreme state of emergency, required extreme solutions.

 

Connor tilted his head back and took three big swigs from the Jim Beam.

 

God, his whole body was on fire.

 

Connor remembered the first time he got drunk. Hank found him passed out in the kitchen corner, next to a half-finished box of alcoholic chocolates.

 

Apparently there hasn't been an update that made androids (or Connor) able to drink more, because he could already feel the booze.

 

“Connor... Thought you hate this shit-”

Hank's voice was a mess.

 

Connor turned on the music and began to lift himself up. Only a bit, so Hank had to look up to keep his gaze on Connor's face.

  
And he did. He fucking stared at the android like he was some sort of sex god.

 

Another sip.

 

An alarming light started to simmer through the curtains of 'being-drunk-as-fuck'. Connor couldn't care less.

He felt so light and hot. So he started to gently sway his hips to the music.

 

“Are you giving me a bloody lapdance?” Hank said.

His hands slipped down, pressing tightly against Connor's moving thighs. Not to stop him, only to gain a bit of control.

 

Connor's LED blinked in an unfamiliar white light.

“Connor what-”

The android's fingers slid into Hank's grayish hair.

 

“If you want to.” he whispered.

 

And let his body slip on the carpet. He separated the lieutenants legs and placed his hands on the thighs.

Hank watched him with glossy eyes, the bottle Jim Beam spilling it's content on the floor. None of them cared.

 

Then Connor placed his knee between the legs and lifted himself up. Connor grabbed Hank's shoulders for support and started to rub his butt in circular motions over Hank's body.

He felt the man shiver and smiled softly.

Leaning forward and nibbling at his earlobe. Hank whispered his name and pressed his nails into the soft skin.

 

Connor turned around, the naked feet pressing against the carpet. And Connor pushed his bum out, feeling Hank's gaze linger as he slowly backed up into him.

As his calves were pressed tightly against Hank's crotch, he felt Hank's hard member.

 

Encouraged by that, Connor grabbed Hank's hands and pushed them under the DPD sweater.

 

First Hank didn't made a move. The android huffed, unsatisfied.

Connor pushed another time, his bulge grew bigger and the fingers finally started to roam the unfamiliar body.

 

He moaned softly and turned his head around. Their gazes locked and Connor let his mouth fall open to a soft O-shape as he pushed his body down another time.

 

Hank's fingers brushed Connor's nipples and his whole body shuttered. Hank swallowed hard.

 

“Are you attracted to me?” Connor asked out of the blue, while grinding on his crotch.

 

“What?”

Connor moved his hips fluently. Hank groaned.

“God, you'll kill me...” he whispered.

 

The boy stretched his back and gave Hank an even better view.

“Touch me-” he commanded and Hank's finger started to caress the flesh.

 

Gently massaging the base of Connor's Spine. It sent chills through his body.

 

“Fuck this.” Hank groaned.

He lifted his hips to meet the shallow movements of Connor's hips.

 

Connor nearly choked. He mewled and moaned as Hank's finger hooked into the rim of his underpants.

 

“Oh! That feels so good-” he gasped.

 

Rapidly he opened the lieutenants fly and gave his cock an experimental stroke.

 

_Fuck, he felt big._

 

“I've been a very naughty boy...”

 

Hank snarled and pulled his hips down again. Crashing his length between Connor's buttocks and starting to grind against it.

His whole body was aware of the sensation. Hank growing harder and bigger, every time they ground against each other.

 

The android needed to clasp his hands on his own lips to stop the sinful cries from escaping and waking suspicious neighbors.

 

Hank pulled him back to be able to thrust even harder and let his hands roam the smaller body. His lips sucked on the exposed shoulder and neck. Hungry for more.

 

 

Then Connor felt something wet dripping down his inner thighs and froze on the spot. The warm fluid continued to flow and eventually Hank stopped to grind against him.

 

“What the heck?” he exclaimed and Connor's cheeks, no, his whole body turned red.

 

“I-I-”

 

Connor jumped from his lap, his pee was still continual trickling. He was mortified. Didn't dare to look up. Covering the wet crotch with his hands.

 

_Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this._

 

While pressing his thighs together, he ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

 

 

 

 


	5. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter could be really triggering for some people. I actually got a bit sick writing it (ugh :,D) but it describes the situation Connor has trapped himself in. It differs a bit from the usual write style, more like a diary but only in this chapter.

It was Wednesday night, a month later as Connor opened the fridge and licked over his lips.

 

_God, he was suffocating._

 

Hank set him on a strict diet. No burgers, no softdrinks, no pop tarts. And there in front of him, illuminated by the buzzing fridge light was a cream pie.

 

Soft-pink. 364 calories pro 100 gram. 17,2 gram fat. E 122 (potentially to cause cancer).

 

He turned around and checked for the officer. His own heartbeat pounded in his ears. He was no where to be seen.

 

A floating, light, yet oddly satisfying sensation overcomes Connor's body.

 

His hands are moving so quickly, so sure. They know exactly where to go, what to grab, completely disconnected from the rest of him. His mouth becomes an opening, innocently unaware of what’s entering.

 

The cake was a blessing. Soon followed a pack of pop tarts, some yogurt (one week expired), a Can of Dr Pepper, the rest of Hank's burger from the chicken truck, again two cans of soda to swallow it. Next was the cupboard. More poptarts Hank forgot to throw away and three handfuls of chocolate cornflakes.

An entire tub of brownie ice cream, along with a bag of chips, a big bowl of cereal, some cookies, a few scoops of peanut butter, and a handful of Hershey chocolates .

 

His brain was on autopilot. It’s already done its job- make sure nobody is around, make sure there’s plenty of food. At some point a black out takes place.

 

Connor couldn't pinpoint exactly when, but it ends abruptly as he knelt in front of the toilet, toothbrush at hand, while the sound of the steaming shower covers up the resisting gag of his throat.

Get it all out. _Don’t stop._ Close your eyes. _Tighter. Don’t look._ Wipe the tears. Blow your nose. Slowly look.

 

Connor made sure he felt satisfied.

 

Wiped the excess around the seat and on the walls.

_Flush. Flush again. Turn off the shower._

 

He stared at himself in the foggy mirror. Saw the pathetic streaks the tears have left on his cheeks. Connor's blood shot eyes gazing back at him in exhaustion.

 

His brain turns back on.

“You’re weak.” he flustered into the room, his voice was raspy and sore.

_I know._

 

 

Way to early in the morning he started to clean up the mess from last night. There were scrambled eggs (he couldn't remember eating them) spilled on the stove top, an empty cereal box sitting on the counter, and on the kitchen table he saw an empty carton of brownie ice cream, an empty potato crisp bag and empty cans of diet cola. As he was cleaning the stove top, he felt just how tired and weak his body had become.

 

Before he got into the shower, he weighed himself and checked his body in the full-lenght mirror. He felt disgusted. His thighs were touching, his stomach sticking out. The concave shape left his upper body and he could barely tell where his hip bones were sticking out.

 

“Connor shift yourself! We'll have to go to work in a few minutes.” Hank grumbled through the door.

 

He had always tried to look pretty. People told him he was beautiful, but for fucks sake, they didn't knew anything.

 

 

When they got to work, Connor greeted everyone as always. Nice and swift with a goofy smile on his lips. Reed shot him a burning gaze.

 

Someone brought donuts today.

He decided to have one, Hank also took one, so it felt easier for Connor to eat. It tasted good.

This was the best part of his day so far. He savored the sweetness but the donut disappeared too fast.

 

_Another one won't hurt._

 

He was expecting the same sensation, the relieve. But nothing. Another bite, always a next one, until the second donut was gone.

 

Hank commented on his eating behavior again.

He had to get rid of it.

 

In the bathroom was another DPD worker. He waited, but as soon as they left someone else enters. He couldn't wait much longer. His body already absorbing the sugary snack. He was hard-pressed for time.

Connor tried to cover the vomiting sounds with the flushing toilet.

 

He cleaned up. Leaved the stall. He looked like he has been crying. He splashed water in his face. Tried to rinse his mouth.

Connor checked his stomach. It looked bigger.

 

Work passed by. He looked at a new case and tried to analyze the information. He gets stuck.

_You will never get this done in time._

_The donuts_ , Connor thought. They'll make him feel better.

He sneaked into the break room and ate one, then another and another. Made sure no one saw him guzzling.

Yes, that felt good. Like being in a different place.

“Where are the donuts?” Hank asked while Connor pushed the last bite into his mouth.

“Everyone loved them, I guess.” Connor mumbled and got to the bathroom again.

 

For lunch the DPD ordered some spicy Indian food. Connor's body is already full, but he needed to eat more. He even asked Hank for the rest of his noodles.

“How do you stay so skinny eating so much?” he laughed and Connor wanted to be invisible.

Then he washed all the food down with diet coke and ice cream. Ice cream made the food easier to come up.

 

After work he decided to go to the bakery buying some cookies for Hank and him. He ordered six chocolate cookies and six more with nuts.

In the car he ate one of the dark brown ones.

Relive filled him and the anxiety swept away. He had another cookie and another.

The box was empty. He couldn't get in there and buy more. Connor was still in the parking lot.

 

Well if he was in the city he could also go grocery shopping now.

Crisps, an instant apple pie, more cookies, ice cream and paper towels to cover up the sugary amount. He throws a loaf of bread in his car because, why not. He can now also make some Hawaii sandwiches Hank liked so much.

 

He eats the crisps on his way home. In the bathroom he finally gets rid of the snacks he ate.

 

 

The phone rings and Connor ignores it. The answering machine picks up. He just hoped they wouldn't leave a message because then he would feel bad for not calling them back.

It was Markus. He asked where he was, they wanted to get some Chinese food in the evening.

 

_Sorry but Sumo got sick and I had to take him to the vet._

 

He ate a piece of apple pie with ice cream and wrapped his arms around his knees. The TV was playing some stupid casting show and he ran to the toilet as the door lock clicked.

 

“Are you sick again?” Hank asked through the door.

_Fuck_ , Connor thought the TV would cover up his sounds.

“I may have infected myself with the flu.” he sniffled to make it even more believable.

 

Hank forced him to lay on his bed and fed him some noodle soup. The lieutenant then occupied the bathroom to take a shower and Connor vomited so aggressively over the sheets, that it even came out of his nose.

 

1 am.

 

He woke up Hank and convinced him to go to the 24/7 and buy him some chocolate pudding.

It tasted actually pretty well coming up an anxious half-hour later.

 

At the end of the night, he resolved that tomorrow would be a better day – no more bingeing or purging. He would simply not eat anything at all.

 


	6. Black out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank starts to act weird. A visitor.

Chapter 6

 

Connor was so tired after he woke up. The apartment seemed cold and he was sure Hank left without him. He probably still thought he had a nasty cold. Because the lieutenant spent the night snorting in a chair next to Connor's bed, to make sure he won't choke on his own vomit or something like that. It didn't smell like puke everywhere. Did Hank cleaned his teeth? He can't remember clearly.

 

Well, now he was gone and Connor just wanted to stay under the covers.

 

But he had to get up. He had to do it for Hank and his place as his partner. If he would miss work to often, Fowler would definitely fire him.

 

Immediately, he weighed himself. If the number is low enough he can eat breakfast, if not this day was going to suck.

 

In the shower, he noticed that his hair was falling out. Scared, he made himself a memo to check his system later. His skin was dry and chapped, as he rinsed it with Hank's soap. The lieutenant allowed him to use it, breathing in deeply, some kind of comfort.

 

He stared as his naked body, pinched at his side to see the fat was still there.

Connor hated what he saw, maybe he won't eat breakfast at all.

 

The android got dressed in his usual suit and tie, but still felt cold. He looked into the mirror and realized his jacket was way too tight. One could easily see those ugly fat rolls.

 

He settled on a baggy sweatshirt, one that Hank wouldn't miss. Now he wasn't cold anymore and nobody would comment on his body when they wouldn't see it.

 

Hank left him a three pankcakes with maplesyrup. Connor licked his lips.

_You can't eat that fatty._

Despite his growling belly he threw them into the trash. Tries to make as little noise as possible while that.

 

Eventually he ate a half a cup of low-fat yogurt and drank two cups of coffee. The caffeine would bring him through the day.

 

Connor was almost out of the kitchen as he noticed a book on the counter. It was one of Hank's, nobody else from the people who occasionally came here would read one of those old fashioned paper weights. Therefore one could just get an e-book.

 

_Please eat... A mother's struggle to free her teenage son from anorexia._

 

Connor knew what Hank liked. Historical works, Stephen King, sometimes even sarcastic short stories but this... this was different.

_A fucking life adviser?_

Was this some cruel joke? Connor bet Gavin gave it to Hank, he always commented on the android being ill and anorexic. Connor wont listen when he says he's too skinny.

_Gavin lies, you’re fat. Not skinny. Reed just wants you to be fatter than him, so he can feel better about himself._

 

Hank even marked some of the pages.

_Health, tensions at home, triggers._

Connor left the book on the counter and decided to walk to the DPD today.

The more calories he burned, the more weight he loses.

He tried to run a bit, hoped the burning pain in his lungs would get rid of the pictures in his head.

_Could it be that Hank was worried about him?_

 

The DPD-building greeted him with a bad tempered cloud that was swallowing everything and everybody inside.

The telephones were ringing non-stop, someone yelled and smashed his fist on the desk. The Coffeemachine supplied a war troop of foot soldiers with caffeine.

Connor scanned the room, the whole staff was working without a break. Empty donutboxes and coffee mugs were all over the place.

Connor's nose wrinkled as the smell hit him.

Sugary sweet.

His belly snarled, he ignored it.

 

The office lady smiled mildly at Connor.

“Fancy a chocolate?” she asked.

_Decline it. Think how fattening those chocolates are. Look at you, you need to lose weight as it is. That’s without stuffing your face with chocolates!_

“No thanks, I’m full up from Hank's famous pancakes.”

“Are you sure? It’s only a little chocolate.”

He looked at her hand. It was a small praline filled with nougat.

_Of course you’re sure! It may be just a little chocolate, but little chocolates make big people even bigger!_

“Yeah, I’m bl…”

 _Don’t say you’re bloated, idiot! She’ll look at your stomach. You don’t want that, do you?_ “Yeah, yeah, I’m stuffed. Thanks, anyway.”

  
Hank was nowhere to be seen, so Connor settled on his office chair and swayed from left to right until something on the screen captured his attention.

Hank had left his E-Mail account open and a caption was kinda different than the others.

_Require help with my RK-800_

The first thing Connor noticed was his increasing heartbeat as he read the word _my,_ then a wave of human curiosity washed over him (and fear).

The E-mail was sent to Elijah Kamski.

_The CEO from Cyberlife._

Why would he talk to him? Hank loathed this guy since he forced Connor to decide about Chloe's life.

 

He had sent the message five minutes ago.

 

Should Connor read the mail? At the end it was about him, so Hank couldn't forbid it.

Another E-Mail popped up.

_RE: Require help with my RK-800_

The reply from Kamski.

He raised his hand to open the e-mail.

 

A hand laid itself on Connor's shoulder and he let out a short cry.

 

“Stop snooping around, son. This is my fucking work.” Hank grunted angry.

Connor stood up.

“Well then you shouldn't leave it open.” he whispered.  
His cheeks were burning red.

“Did you never heard anything of private space?”

He was nearly screaming at him, his eyebrows twitched.

 

Connor felt so bad. God. Why did he even look in the first place?

 

Hank just grunted again as he realized Connor won't answer and logged out from his mail program. He then proceeded to type aggressively on his keyboard.

 

Without any doubt, Connor was sure Hank didn't want to talk to him anymore.

 

 

The world was continuing to spin around Connor, but he felt disconnected. Even his best friend ignored him, answered his words only with a questionable big amount of grunts.

 

He was Alice. Spinning down the rabbit hole, over and over again, not hitting the bottom to drink some fucking poison that would make the whole mess end.

 

 

A team meeting was next. Just a small one. Mostly for the free food, Hank always said. He hated it.

Connor spend most of the time today in an intense conversation with Fowler about some new case.

But then he accidentally looked at the plate in front of him. A fault.

They’ve got the filled rolls out again. There’s loads left.

“Want some rolls?” Fowler asked.

“Yeah, alright.”

_NO, NO, NO! What are you doing? Do you really want to be this fat all your life?_

“Have you got any salad rolls?” Connor asked the android who served it.

“No, sorry, we’ve got chicken curry, your favourite, though.”

Connor felt something in his belly turn. He looked away.

“Ah, no thanks.”

_Well done little boy._

 

 

His steps took him outside. The rain was splashing on the pavement, cars were rushing through the puddles and nobody looked at the pale android.

If they would, the people would see the emptiness in his eyes and stomach. How he grabbed the door handle to support his shifting weight.

But they didn't – and Connor inhaled the humid air.

 

“Out for a smoke?” Gavin blunted out.

He stared at Connor.

“What?” he said.

His voice was a mess. That brought a grin to Reed's lips.

“You look like you need one, tin can.”

Connor still watched him with wide eyes as Reed pulled out a pack of camels.

“A cigarette?”

“Yes, a cigarette, dumbhead.”

The man grunted, flipped a cigarette between his lips. Connor looked at the box that was laying between them.  
“I don't know if I'm capable to... smoke.” he flustered.

Reed already inhaled deeply and watched the cars passing by.

  
Slowly Connor gave in to his curiosity, a trait which Hank always liked. He took one of the cigarettes out of the box and Gavin looked at him, while Connor raised the shaking hand to his lips.

“Your first?” he asked.

Connor nodded softly.

Gavin took the cigarette and lit it.

 

“You have to drag gently, not too much.”

Connor tried to follow his commands, he coughed instantly.

Reed laughed.

“I told you to be careful!”

 

 

A few minutes passed. Nobody of the two tried to talk. They were lost in their own thoughts. Gavin was probably thinking about his evening, Connor was lost in his desire to ask for a piece of Gavin's tuna sandwich.

_Don't even think about it, you fat pig._

The voice in his head was cruel. But stopped him from craving so much. Connor stepped out the cigarette.

“Going for a run...” he whispered and ignored Gavin's irritated look.

He would just jog the rest of his break. 15 minutes. Approximately -145 calories.

 

 

Connor walked to the park. The air was fresh and clean. Water was dripping from the leaves.

_Burn calories._

He started jogging a bit.

_More._

He ran faster. The water splashed under the rim of his pants. His breath was short and strained.

_Exercise for two hours._

While running he thought about Hank's words. He called him chubby, what a nice word for being fat. It was like the fairly sweet smell of chloroform before you black out and get killed.

 

Someone tried to call him three times, he ignored it. At some point the lieutenant just gave up.

 

 

After the run he felt a bit lightheaded. It was too much, Connor realized, frustrated that his body was so weak.

 

Anxiously, he bought a bottle of water and a bit of snack celery in his regular shop.

 

The vendor eyed him suspiciously. Normally, Connor would by plenty of food. Normally, the android would buy the small portions somewhere else so nobody would notice his weird behavior.  
But this market was the closest and he felt like blacking out soon.

Connor just shot him a mild smile and left.

 

After his anxious meal Connor felt better. The celery contained 18 calories.

 

 

The door lock clicked as Connor entered. Sumo pushed his head against him, Connor nearly lost balance. He laughed softly and petted the big dog.

“Good boy.” he whispered.

The floor was dark, there was a light glowing in the living room and Connor could hear some soft classic music.

_Nocturnes by Chopín_

Weird. Normally Hank would watch baseball now, a beer in his hand and some nachos on his lap.

“Connor?”

His voice was _way too_ soft.

“Come here... Please.” he commanded.

 

Connor took off his shoes, a habit Hank taught him, and walked into the living room.

“What's up-”

He let out a surprised noise.

 

There, on his couch, sat Elijah _fucking_ Kamski himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I am so sorry! I took me so long to update this story xD  
> I will def upload more now! 
> 
> Tell me what you think about Connor?  
> Why did Hank asked Kamski for help?  
> What will happen next?
> 
> Greetings!
> 
> PS: My poor Connor babyboy aaaAAAhhhhH


	7. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The visit of Kamski, doesn't go so well. Connor is stupid as always.

Chapter 7

 

“Hello Connor.” he said.

Something in Connor's stomach curled because the voice was still the same, since their last meeting. There was something particularly cruel and controlled in it.

Hank was sitting on the couch. His hands fiddling nervously in his lap, Connor instantly imaged a coin between his fingers. Somehow he found comfort in Hank's movements.

“Good evening, Sir.”

“I came here to congratulate you.”

Connor's eyebrows shot up, Kamski smiled smugly.

“Your birthday. The liteunant told me it is today.” he explained.

The smile got even wider, but still didn't reach his eyes.

Connor mentally went through his calendar. He was right. Indeed, today was his 'birthday'. But for Connor this was just a normal day. No presents, no party and especially cake. No slipping in his routine was allowed. Otherwise he was sure he would be even more worthless.

 

“I've made some roast dinner.” Hank said, as he noticed the tense atmosphere.

Apparently unaware about the thoughts that raced through Connor's head like a swarm of angry bees.

_Decline._

“I... I already invited Mr Kamski, we've just waited for you.”

Hank didn't dare to look him into the eye. Connor was used to his avoidance by now, but this almost felt like he was forcing him to eat.

_He wants to test you. See if you just want to get fatter and fatter._

  
Connor's nostrils flattered.

“I've already eaten-”

“Great. My stomach is already growling.” Kamski interrupted him.

Connor huffed.

The man stood up. Kamski was still smaller then Connor, but the android didn't dare to disobey his creator.

He just simply nodded and followed the men into the small but comfortable kitchen.

 

Sumo took his place under Connor's seat. Already lazily tail wagging and ready to beg for some of Connor's food.

A unusual view.

A few months ago Connor always fed him some of his plate, so he would eat less calories without throwing the food away and raising awareness.

But after he (painfully) noticed that Hank just ignored the untouched instant food or half eaten buns, the android stopped.

Sumo lost the extra weight again and Hank seemed to be happy about that.

 

Connor looked at the dinner.

 

There was white sauce, broccoli, carrots and peas, potatoes almost swimming in fat and the worst was a big crispy mountain of beef.

Hank invested both time and money in this.

“Thank you, lieutenant.” he said, while everything inside of him was screaming at Connor.

 

_Don't you dare. Don't. Don't. Don't._

At some point he made a list of 'safe foods'. He was following it so strictly that if he was faced with certain foods, he felt like he might cry.

 

In fact, looking at the roast, he probably will.

_Contain yourself. Eat only a handful of veggies and exercise for two more hours._

The voice inside of his head managed to dry his dwelling tears and he ignored Kamski's piercing glance.

 

He sat down on the chair. It hurt. It hurt so badly, because his bones were grinding against the seat. Connor smiled softly. The pain was good, the pain meant feeling alive. Somehow.

 

He reached out for the broccoli-spoon but Kamski slapped his hand away.

“The chef may serve the dinner.” he looked at him like Connor was a child that needed to learn how to behave.

He felt like one too.

Connor huffed. Hank looked at him, apologizing, but took the big knife and cut the roast meat in _way too thick_ slices.

_Get back into control._

“Can I get the first one? I love the crispiness.” Connor faked the anticipation.

 

Hank nodded happily and place the rather small, but still fat soaked piece on his plate. Then came the broccoli, a way to big portion of peas and carrots, a big chunk of potato and on top some of the sauce.

 

Connor felt the need to sob, but he contained himself. Sumo licked lazily on his leg, probably sensing his discomfort - he took some of the meat to give it to the dog.

“Connor, I made this for you in the first place. Not Sumo.” Hank said and Connor's cheeks burned.

_Hank sounded so disappointed._

Connor started to eat. He was so fucking scared.

 

 

The next thing he remembered was leaning over the toilet. He pushed two of his fingers down his throat and gagged. Vomiting up all of the roast dinner.

_Hank spent hours to make this. Apparently he wants to make you fat._

The voice inside him tried to justify his actions, but Connor still felt horrible. The food made his throat hurt and tasted terrible when it came up again. Still Connor felt better after he got rid of it, emptier, cleaner.

 

He realized he was crying. He was crying so badly that his sobs echoed from the bathroom walls and he had to cover his mouth so nobody would come and ask what is wrong.

This whole fucking thing was wrong. He disappointed Hank. He just vomited hours of work and time and money. He briefly wondered if the lieutenant would hate him if he knew.

 

 

“Those bruises on your knees... When did you got them?” Kamski asked, a cup of tea in his hand.

Raspberry, Connor could sense it, his favorite tea before he learned about artificial sweeteners. Now he only drank green tea, because it was potentially burning fat.

Connor looked down. He was wearing Hank's old DPD sweatshirt, a shirt underneath because he was so fucking cold and a boxershort.

On his knees were some fat violet spots. Connor felt exposed.

“I don't now... Maybe since two days? I fell because...-”

_Tell him why. Tell him you are so weak, you trip and fall a lot._

They were one and a half week old now. Connor remembered getting them when he did exercise. He took a walk through the park at night, because he ate a whole bag of poptarts. There was a small bump, he stumbled and his legs just gave in.

“Are you giving your body the nutrients it needs?” Kamski asked.

It felt like a rhetorical question. Like he _knew_.

Hank again refused to look at him.

“If you don't, your cuts and bruises struggle to heal. Your white blood cells malfunction.” he explained.

Connor shrugged.

“I- I probably just had some stress.”

Connor sat down next to the quiet Hank. He hoped nobody would notice the slightly stinging smell of vomit.

 

Kamski stared at them. Connor could feel it, he was shaking, pulling the sweater a bit tighter around him. Cold.

“He is freezing Hank. You should perhaps keep him warm, so he won't get ill.”

“I should... what?”

“Go on. Touch him.” Kamski commanded.

There was _this_ smile on his lips again. Connor felt his cheeks growing red. Those words sounded so _lewd_.

 

Hank slowly wrapped his arms around Connor. The android softly whined. Hank stilled but continued as Kamski told him so.

It was awkward at first. The radiating body heat. The smell of Hank's (familiar) cologne.

 

Then Hank's hands started to curiously roam his body. His fingers stopped at the rim of the sweater, Connor bugged his hips, non-verbally told him to go on.

“God, you are way too thin.” he whispered.

Connor felt his chest swell from pride and grabbed Hank's wrists. Just to make him grab his hips, feel the soft, pale skin.

He leaned his forehead against Hank's shirt. The smell of sweat was intoxicating.

 

“I'm gonna go now... I still have some programming to do.” Kamski told them and got up.

Hank said something, but Connor couldn't really determine what it was. Probably some slurred goodbye. Because Hank's fingers just felt too good and Hank was just slightly drunk from the red wine Kamski gave him.

Now he actively grabbed his hip bones and stroked the skin.

 

Hank's dark glistering eyes roamed Connor's body, stopped at his prominent collar bones. He softly grabbed him, afraid Connor could break and pulled him on his lap.

Connor laid his chin down on Hank's shoulder. He could hear his breathing that got even heavier as his hands stroked the android's lower back.

His BPM is rising drastically.

Connor felt his lids flutter.

“Please touch me.” he whined.

_Please tell me I'm thin. Please tell me I'm beautiful._

Connor thought: Maybe if I would get him off, he would praise me. He was thinking about his cock way too often anyway, licking his lips.

So his hand slowly drew circles on Hank's thighs.

  
At first Hank tried to push his hand away, slowly grunting every time he did so. But then he stopped to resist. His fingers shoved themselves under the android's boxershort and tried to claim as much skin as possible.

They pressed their bodies against each other. Rubbing and breathing hardly.

Connor softly moaned as he finally touched Hank's hard on. It was raging, pressing itself against the jeans and Connor's hand.

He gave it a soft tug and his pelvis twitched.

“Fuck me _sideways_.” Hank cursed and let out a groan.

 

Connor allowed the older man to pull down his shorts. Just a bit, so he could cup his bum with those strong big hands.

“Lieutenant-” he moaned.

The android pressed his already wet crotch on the bulge. He shivered. The picture of Hank's apparently thick cock sliding inside his virgin hole made Connor go crazy.

_Want. Touch. Claim._

For a single moment his mind wasn't occupied with food or calories or work out – there was only Hank.

 

“Connor- We... We can't-”

Hank pushed him away.

Connor felt the rejection inside of his stomach. Like a cold shower.

Was he not thin enough? Connor looked down his body, there were some fat rolls. Indeed, Hank rejected him because he was a fat pig.

 

Hank apparently noticed the consequences of his actions.

“Oh son... I'm gonna make you a nice hot bath, okay? It was a hard day...” he explained but his words were hollow.

There was a small encouraging smile on his lips but it didn't reach his eyes.

 

 

The water was slightly blue, it smelled like mint. The oil bottle was still displayed openly on the sink and Connor put it back inside the cabin. Hank left the bathroom, mumbling something under his breath.

It took Connor several more minutes to undress himself, he didn't dare to look at himself in the mirror.

_Hank doesn't want to touch your fat ass. You're a pig. Maybe he will love you when you're thin enough?_

Connor felt hate inside his belly. Hate against himself, hate because sometimes he was so weak and ate too much without binging enough.

 

The water was still burning hot but Connor just flinched a bit. It was a nice alternative – the constant cold was nagging on him like a starving rat. And also: The hotter it was, the more calories he would burn.

 

With a sharp inhale he let himself be swallowed by the water. Feeling the heat everywhere. His ears, his toes, even his tongue burned deliciously. He held his breath, blinking and gently swaying in the bathtub. He remained like that for a few seconds, disconnected from the world around him.

Maybe he would touch himself. Thinking about Hank's cock, how big it felt in comparison to his hands. _Too big._ Maybe he should buy some toys.

His vision started to blur and he surfaced again.

 

_Or... Connor knew Hank had a really deep sleep, maybe-_

 

Then there was a pain in his neck. He touched it with his hand.

First it was barely noticeable, just a feeling that there was something wrong. It got stronger as he inhaled sharply, trying to get more air in his lungs.

_What the hell._

The water felt... weird. He couldn't really breath in this position.

Connor tried to pull himself up. But his arms were to heavy.

_Like bowling balls, swinging, pulling him deeper into the water._

 

Eventually, there came the first _real_ hit of pain. Inside of his chest. Connor whined, water was splashing out of the tub.

_Hank would freak out_.

He threw his head back, everything was squeezing. Every muscle inside of his chest was burning.

_He would die. He felt like he was going to fucking die._

There was also screaming. It came out of his mouth, Connor realized.

 

_Stop. Stop. Stop. Hank will come and see your body, see the mess you've made._

 

But he couldn't stop. His mind was disconnected from the body, squirming in the tub.

 

“Connor?!” Hank cried.

His fists were thrashing against the door.

Did he locked it? Apparently, the door handle turned but didn't open.

“Fucking open the door son!”

He will just say 'No, everything's alright Hank, don't worry.' - he opened his mouth.

Connor let out another agonizing scream.

 

With a loud crack the door opened, ripped out of the angles. Hank looked horrible, he drank. He smelled like booze and Connor wanted to analyze how much but his data was freaking out too.

“Fuck my old boots!” he exclaimed and rushed to Connor.

_He will hate you._

Connor wanted to stop him, but then his vision turned black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! :D I needed to work and get some money for food xD Now I can write again though!  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter ;)
> 
> Do you know what happend to Connor?
> 
> Love,  
> Jonas


	8. Betty Boop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least some love for Connor.

Chapter 8

 

Connor felt numb.

His whole body was wrapped in plastic-like covers, sweat made it feel damp and ugly. Connor felt the need to wriggle himself out of this wet prison, but as he tried to move a sharp pain stroke his head.

Whining, he tried to open his eyes. They were burning. He licked over his lips. Also chapped and hurting.

A slim shadow placed some kind of cloth around his arm, he tried to escape again.

“...Your blood pressure.”

The voice ringed inside his head, as the android tried to raise his body. A soft but firm hand pressed him down into the wet sheets again.

 

“Lil' walter-” he coughed, his whole ribcage hurt like shit.

“Alright, alright.”

Connor let out a sharp breath as the cuff was released again. A glass of water was put inside his hand. He tried to raise it, failed terribly.

“I'll help you, hun.” the blonde woman whispered.

Her face was still to blurred to recognize her. Softly she pressed the glass against his lips, Connor drank greedily.

“Not so fast.”

Her voice was sharp but lovely. Noticing his discomfort, she grabbed a wet rag and dabbed it on his forehead. The sweat was gone now.

“Change?” Connor whispered.

His brain worked perfectly. But his lips were to weak to perform right. He peeked down his shoulder and saw a thick needle inside one of his veins.

He felt sick.

“If you don't mind me helping you.” she said and giggled a bit.

 

After the water Connor felt better.

He was in a white room on a white bed. The rest of the furniture was white too, despite some terrible clown image on the wall. There were many cables and machines, most weren't attached to him, which was good.

He carefully analyzed more. Aware that his pounding headache got worse, when he tried to use his abilities.

 

Connor slowly raised his free arm and touched his nose. Feeling some thin plastic.

There was a tube in his nose and an IV feeding into a vein on one of his arms.

The woman, apparently a nurse, grabbed his shoulder's and helped Connor to raise his upper body.

A faint memory. _Hank manhandling him._ Connor shook his head.

“I want to go home.” he said.

The woman in front of him was in her late fourties. She looked like someone who had a great amount of Betty Boop posters on her wall and printed out apple pie recipes. She got some big golden creoles, normally not allowed in the hospital, and wore a childish and cheeky smile, that made Connor's mouth corners twitch.

“Let's get you dressed in something fine first, sweetheart. Before your dad comes back to pick you up.”

“M-My dad?”

“This Anderson guy. The lieutenant? I didn't knew he got another child after the incident.”

Connor felt heat rushing into his cheeks.

Correcting the bold woman wouldn't change anything though, it would just make things in Connor's head more complicated and painful.

 

Connor just wanted the pain to stop.

 

“Oh sweetie, you like The Clash?” she cried out and pulled out a shirt from a bag, some tech logo was printed on the thin plastic.

It was a fairly old shirt. One of Connor's favorite bands. He discovered them while Hank was at work and the android searched through his music.

He nodded, the nurse smiled even brighter.

“You can call me Brenda. What is your name, bean?”

“Connor.” he coughed.

His throat felt like sandpaper. He wondered if it was to much to ask for some _lil' walter_ again.

 

Brenda, or shall we call her Betty, fixed her pony tail and pulled of the gloves.

“Okay Baby, I'll pull out the Nasogatric tube now.”

“What?” he whispered, his eyes went wide.

“It's this rubber thing. It is passed through the nose and down through the nasopharynx and esophagus into your stomach.”  
“Why do I have this?”

Connor felt stupid.

“Well, it has bidirectional potential. It's either used to remove the contents of the stomach, including air, to decompress it, or to remove small solid objects and fluid, such as poison. On the other hand an NG tube can also be used to put substances into your stomach, and so it was used to place nutrients directly-”

The rest of her words were blurred.

“You fed me?”

Connor's voice was hollow and tense. Betty Boop blinked a few times, trying to study his face and determine the origin of his fear.

“How many calories?”

“I don't know-”

“How many!?” he cried out.

Feeling tears swell in his eyes. He wanted to rip this feeding tube (fattening) out, but Betty grabbed his wrists. There was soft sympathy in her face.

“Not too many. Because your heart is still weak, sweetheart.” she whispered.

“I'm gonna pull it out now, you'll feel sick for a moment but then it will be better.”

Connor took a deep breath in and Betty pulled the tube out of his body.

“Now the IV.”  
  


After the IV was removed and the bleeding stilled, she helped Connor to get rid of the terrible uniform (“I always tell the doctor that those things are super ugly, but he doesn't listen to me!”).

Connor wanted to shield his body, but she paid minimal attention to it. She's probably seen worse. Connor was sure about that. He was still chubby, so.

“Is he gonna pick me up soon?”

“Who?”

“My dad...” Connor said and felt some weird feeling creeping up his spine.

Betty shot him a warm smile.

“In a few minutes, Baby. Do you want some tea? Should I give you some time alone?”

“Latter...” he whispered. “And Brenda?”

The nurse turned around.

“Thank you...”

The curvy woman smiled brighter. Even her eyes glistered a bit as she looked at the slim boy.

“Oh Connor... Sometimes our minds distort our mirrors.” she whispered.

Her smile fainted slowly, but the warm glow stayed as she left the room.

 

 

Soon the door opened again. But as he saw the older man in his doctor's overall he felt some uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Maybe it was just the normal atmosphere that came with being close to a doctor. A man that potentially new more than a thousand ways to torture and kill you, without being accused for it.

 

Hank came inside the room too, he just greeted Connor with a soft grunt.

_He doesn't even look at you. He knows how fat you look in this old shirt._

“Good day, Mr. Anderson.”

The doctor smiled friendly, he was looking at him, not Hank. It took Connor some time to realize that Hank probably said he was somehow related to him. Maybe even his son.

“Your boy was very lucky, Hank.” the doctor said.

He used his first name. Hank definitely smuggled the android inside. There weren't any hospitals that treated androids and this doesn't look like some Cyberlife shit.

Connor looked outside the window. There was a big figure of Abraham Lincoln. It was the town square.

_This has to be the St. Maria hospital._

  
“Lucky?” the boy asked.

Now Connor looked at the lieutenant again.

Finally he raised his head. He looked tired and worn out, there were thick bags under his eyes and he seemed much older than yesterday.

“The _cardiac arrest_ wasn't too bad.”

The word was clinging in his head.

“If your BMI is under a certain level the pressure of a body of water, like a full bathtub, would be enough to give you a heart attack.”

Then he turned to the lieutenant again.

 

“Hank, you should consider to search for some... medical help. Connor really seems to be sick.”

Hank just huffed as always. But there was something else in his eyes.

_Concern._

 

 

The drive back to Hank's house was long and silent.

There was some nu-metal playing on the radio and some chirpy man announced a live stream concert of the 'Last airbender', a band which none of them liked – so Connor turned it off.

Somehow, that made it even worse. The silence was unbearable and he almost wished there was still some shitty guitar solo, that filled the empty cold space between them.

But there wasn't.

There was nothing at all between them to be quite precise.

 

 

“I'm going to work again.”

Connor didn't said anything. He knew what that meant.

_I'm going to the next bar I can find (probably skeeters because you get 3 for 2 whiskey shots) and drown myself in some cheap alcohol. Maybe even have cheaper sex afterwards._

Connor could smell it at him. Cologne and menthol cigarettes. He didn't smoke unless a event like this is going to happen.

Apparently Hank didn't gave a shit about his answer.

He just closed the entrance door a bit too harsh.

 

 

Connor scrolled through his contacts. Just a handful.

Work. Work. Markus and Simon, but they were on some kind of holiday. North - would kill him if he asked her to come over (It was her 'nail-some-hot-chick-night').

Gavin.

His thumb hovered just above his name. Normally he wouldn't consider asking him. But this situation was far away from normal.

 

_Hank is gone, I need you, please. - Connor_

 

A quick message, he closed the application and hugged the couch pillow.

_Gavin won't come. That is clear as daylight._

 

 

A short knock, woke Connor from his soft slumber. He blinked the tiredness away. Slowly lifting himself up.

Another crack.   
_Did Hank forgot his keys?_

“Under the flower pot.” he said loudly, hoping the lieutenant heard him through the drunkenness.

 

The TV was still running, the volume was turned down.

Some old cartoon with a mouse chasing a cat.

He could look it up, but it wouldn't make any difference. Connor was too tired anyway.

 

“Hey tin can.” Reed said and threw the key on the counter.

“G-Gavin- I didn't know- I never thought-”

“That I would come? Me neither. I mean... _Hank is gone, I need you_ sounded pretty desperate. Almost sexual.” he laughed.

Connor wasn't really in the mood to smile. Gavin stilled.

 

“Make some space for my fat ass.” he grunted and Connor shift.

Felt the couch dip as Gavin sat down.

“Tom and Jerry.” he noticed and pointed at the TV.

“I love this.” he chuckled.

It sounded weirdly familiar.

_Njuck-Njuck-Njuck._

Connor finally smiled. Gavin turned the volume up and laid his arm on the armrest.

Slowly but surely he leaned over to Gavin.

The officer let out a soft huff but didn't made any move to stop him until Connor's head was laid firmly on his chest.

 

The warmth felt good, and even if Gavin behaved awkward at first, he now used his arm to wrap it around the androids body.

Softly his fingers traveled across Connor's waist, he had to feel some of the fat, but Connor didn't really care.

 

Then he spotted something on the couch table.

“You can drink this.” Connor said.

Gavin grabbed the beer can, that Hank gave him without any words and took a big gulp.

Connor watched his adams apple. There were some marks from razoring.

“Stop staring at me, creep.” Gavin said and laughed again.

Connor's face was flushed red.

“Although this red suits you really well.” he said and stared back at him.

The mouse hitting the cat with a hammer was only a background noise now.

“I never noticed those freckles on your face...” he whispered.

Connor grabbed his collar and let his gaze wander to the officer's lips. They were full and chapped from all the lip biting he did, when Gavin had to concentrate. He licked over them now.

_Njuck-Njuck-Njuck._

Someone in the TV sounded like Gavin. None of them cared.

Connor leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his right cheek, then his left.

And finally planted one in the middle.

A short electric feeling, then he pulled back.

Gavin put his hands on either side of his neck and kissed him again, so softly and tenderly.

Connor's heart was racing and he was breathing very deliberately. Gavin pulled back, just that there lips were barely touching anymore.

“Are you okay?”

He had to know where Connor stayed the night. But the boy didn't care.

Connor almost shuddered as he felt Reed's hand on his cheek, stroking the soft skin.

“I need you.” the android repeated the message and Gavin obliged.

Connor was so exited and responsive and nervous at the same time.

Nerves and excitement and chest heaving, and everything is vaguely hazy or fuzzy because it was so hot and the pain medication was strong.

Connor couldn't think clearly anymore.

 

They kissed some more this night. Just soft ones, full of comfort and some gently biting on each others lips.

Connor fell asleep in Gavin's arms.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin creates waaaay too much drama-lama. *cries in french*


	9. The vulture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is stupid as always. Hank decides to be a bit more forceful on him.

Chapter 9

 

Connor felt like he was floating. There still was the smell of Gavin in his nose, but the space next to him was empty.

He was gone.

_He left you. Like everybody in the end._

After all those months Connor grew good in ignoring the voice. He will still listen to it though – just stopped to discuss with it. The voice was right anyway.

 

The sound of Sumo's foodbowl being filled up again ringed out. Bits of processed meat and vegetables. There was once a time where Connor was curious how it would taste. A careless time, before the updates came.

He slowly got up, walking and grabbing the kitchen door frame for support.

Connor could see Hank's big hunched back. It was covered with the usual thick coat and his hair was pulled up into a messy small bun.

_Damn... He looked pretty good like this, strong... Like he could press Connor against the kitchen table._

Sumo's tail was wagging happily, he softly barked as he noticed Connor.

“Sumo, silence.” Hank grunted.

 

Bad-Mood-Hank.

Did Gavin managed to escape before Hank saw him? Oh god... Did Hank threw him out?

_This is my property. I can slit open every throat I want on my doorstep._

The terrifying picture of a murdered Gavin came to his mind. Blood gushing out of his throat and eyes.

 

“Connor.” Hank greeted him.

He pet Sumo's head and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“I brought some take-away.”

“But it's-”

Connor stilled. It was already afternoon. Did he really slept so long? Why did he still felt tired then?

“Sit down, son.”

Connor obliged and watched Hank's shaking hands as he pulled out a brown paper bag.

 

The cat clock – Connor got Hank for his last birthday – was heavily ticking above the fridge. They both stared at the take-away. Waiting for the other one to move.

“Barbecue spare rips and fried rice. Your favorite.”

The fat was already soaking the paper. Connor looked at Hank again.

_Your favorite._

Hank was a different man. He had to be. The real Hank would have noticed Connor's behavior in the last 8 months and had realized that there was no such thing like 'favorite' anymore, when it came to food.

“A bag of prawn crackers too. It was free, because... Because you know, I always order there.”

Now Hank made a move and spread the food in front of Connor. Connor looked at it like it was a dog-sized scorpion. And in his mind it sure had the same amount of poison in it.

 

“This is bad for your cholesterol level.” Connor whispered.

“No it's not.” Hank grunted and pushed the plate closer to the shivering Connor.

“It is. The rips have 870 calories. The prawn crackers about 570 each bag and the rice-”

“This isn't about me- for me Connor. I bought this for you.”

He tried to smile, but anger flashed over his face.

 

“Oh really? Thank you.”

Connor used a dry voice. He didn't even wanted to. He wanted to sound happy and cherish as always – goofy how Hank preferred to call it – but there wasn't enough energy left inside him.

 

The boy grabbed a pair of chopsticks (they would slow him down) and probed the food with those.

The ribs smelled delicious. This was a fucking nightmare.

But Connor decided to say _fuck it_. He picked up some of the rice – the egg one with added oil. He would rather prefer boiled or jasmine. But if this would satisfy Hank...

 

Connor wished the voice would talk to him now. Tell him to slow down so he would feel full sooner or maybe Hank would get bored and stop watching him so intensely.

But it was gone, and he felt even more lonely then before. Left alone with his sickening body.

 

He raised the rice and stilled.

 

A heavy sob made its way out of Connor's throat. He was suddenly twitching, squirming, staring at the food in front of him.

“Connor... Don't you dare.” Hank slammed his fist on the desk.

The chopsticks fell on the table and Connor hid his face behind his hands.

"Why are you crying? I wish I could cry," Hank had taunt. "But what would happen to us if I lay down and cried? This family would fall apart!" 

As Connor continued to wither, Hank kept on shouting, but he also began to cajole.

  
  


"Please eat," he'd say. "For me? A little food's not going to hurt you."

As satisfying as it was to hear him plead, the better pleasure was knowing that Connor finally had some of the power he wanted — over his body, and over Hank.

  
  


  
  


At the end Connor felt bad for the money Hank had spent for him and ate half of the rice portion. Hank threw the rest away, only kept the bag of crackers for himself.

  
  


They stopped to talk. Only the ticking of the clock, which Connor wanted to smash on the ground, filled the room. As soon as Hank stood up to grab himself a beer, Connor rushed upstairs.

  
  


His heart was racing as he grabbed the bathroom door handle and pulled.

It... It didn't move.

“Connor...” Hank voice was worn out.

Connor was shaking again. Anger flashed red in front of his eyes.

“You locked the door?”

“It's for your own safety...-”

“You really locked it-”

He tried opening the door again. Pointless.

And then, then he just exploded.

“FUCK YOU!” Connor screamed.

Hank's eyes were blown wide and he stared at Connor. It was the first time he cursed, the first time he screamed at him ever.

The boy turned on the spot and ran into his room, crashing on the bed, heavily sobbing.

Hank turned up the TV volume.

  
  


  
  


The boy was laying on his bed and took a drag of one of Gavin's cigarettes, he forgot them yesterday.

The slightly depressing music of the cure filled the room and barely any morning light flood through the closed blinds.

Connor was here. He had friends. He had a name and even remembered his phone number. This was real. He was alive.

But where exactly was the point in going on?

Another drag.

Inside his room he was the only existing person in his mind. No plans, no future, no fucking deadlines.

Just swinging to the sounds of a guitar solo and his slow heartbeat.

  
  


Hank was probably working now. Connor figured it was some kind of coping mechanism. If there was no alcohol, Hank would drown himself in cruel cases.

  
  


He looked down at himself. The boy also got some work to do. Maybe, running.

  
  


  
  


Over the time his feet had gotten so thin, that his running shoes had cut holes into the skin around his ankles.

After half an hour restless running, the resulting sores got so bad that he started to hobble.

  
  


Some people looked at him. Probably trying to figure out how long it would took him to pass out.

Teeth grinding on each other he leaned over to lap at some drinking fountain in the park.

The water felt good and he could steady his shaking body on the sink.

  
  


“Greets.”

Connor stood straight again in a mere moment.

“Hello.” he said, still out of breath.

The stranger sized him up. He had to look like a work-out-newbie.

But the person in front of him, didn't seem to care much about that.

He wore a thick leather jacket, despite the warm autumn day. His eyes were sunken inside their sockets and he had thin lips, which curled up into a smile.

Connor's scrunched his nose, he smelled like Hank but additionally there was cheap perfume and menthol smoke.

In other words – he smelled like an addict.

He leaned closer to Connor's face.

“What do you study, pretty?”

Connor frowned. Sure, the park was next to the campus, but did he really looked this young?

“Or do you still go to highschool?”

This was getting worse every passing second.   
Connor shook his head.

“What is your name? I'm Leo.”

“Connor...” he said.

Leo smiled even wider. He took a step towards Connor and the fountain was firmly pressed against his lower back.

“You wanna buy some shit?” Leo whispered.

Suspiciously looking around for any cops. Little did he know who stood in front of him.

“Shit?”

Connor played innocent. Those big puppy eyes already saved his ass a few times.

“Let me see...”

He grabbed his wrist as Connor tried to bring some distance between them. The boy was too weak to free himself.

His red and yellow blinking LED was hidden under a beanie.

“How about some adderall? It will make you run faster, babe, probably reduce your appetite too.”

Connor already had calculated how long it would take him to sprint to the nearest police station.

This Leo is gonna get so fucked- Wait.

_Reduce appetite._

“Is it clean?” Connor asked.

His head was buzzing.

“Sure. I only deal with the good stuff.”

Leo licked his lips. Looking at Connor like a predator.

“How much?”

“Give me your phone number and you'll get a dozen for free.”

  
  


Connor knew he should have said no, secure Leo and call the police.   
But still, there he was, pale as a ghost and nervously looking after Hank as he got inside again.

He wasn't here. Those orange pills were here though. They were hot, like his skin would instantly bruise if Connor touched them.

Kamski has left a message for Hank on the answering machine.

_Could you please call me as soon as you can?_ His recorded voice said.

Connor erased it.

  
  


He felt like shit. The boy grabbed two of Hank's Valium and swallowed them with some sparkling water. The bubbles helped to create a feeling of fullness.

  
  


  
  


The smell of fresh food made Connor wake up again. He trashed the blankets down to his feet and noticed that the blinds were pulled up.

Some soft cursing came from the kitchen and Connor was still a bit wobbly from the medication, but he managed to make his way into the corridor.

  
  


“We’re having steak and kidney pie, with chips and peas tonight.” Hank said.

He was wearing a apron and smiled wide.

He definitely had a great day. Probably solved a hard case or got a promotion from Fowler. Deleting the message from Kamski was right, it would have just made him more upset.

Hank didn't had to worry about Connor. He could make his own decisions.

He planned on taking the adderall.

_Go to the toilet. Swallow the pills. Maybe he could even ask Gavin to come again._

Yes, he would do that.

His body was already longing to be praised. To be called thin and beautiful and adorable.

Gavin could even choke him a bit if he wanted to, he caught him watching some porn about it once.

His fingertips were tingling in anticipation.

“Sorry, Hank. I’m not really hungry. Can I just make myself something?”

Hank's smile fainted. Connor slowly raised his hands.

“It’s not that I don’t like your cooking, I love it…”

_Smack._

Sumo whined loudly as Connor's head was turning to the side. His left cheek was aggressively blushing now.

“You’ll eat what you’re given!”

“Yes Sir...” Connor whispered, his eyes were tearing up.

  
  


6:30 and the meal is done.

Hank goes to the toilet to wash his hands.

_Now’s your time, shift it!_

Connor puts half of his chips and half of his peas on the other plate, some inside Sumo's bowl.

Sumo's tail didn't wagged, since Hank hit him. He didn't even notice the food, just lazily licked across Connor's shaking hands.

The boy rearranged his so it looks as if he has got just the same as Hank.

It’s easy, he has been doing it for weeks.

Hank goes into the living room to eat, and Connor stays in the kitchen. Sumo watched him curiously as he shut the door, so Hank couldn't see him throwing the food away.

That’s no good, is it? He’ll see it in the bin. Can’t flush it down the toilet, this stuff floats.

He ends up eating it, all of it and swiped the tears with a napkin.

  
  


Connor went upstairs to run a bath.

He put his head below the rim and two fingers down his throat. For a moment he thought about Gavin's cock fucking his face.

Then he gets it all out. All of the erotic energy was gone now too.

Thank goodness.

He made the bath really hot and steamy – so it'll burn more calories and warm his already freezing body.

This time it only reached his hips and ankles though.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God. My holidays are almost over and apparantly I achieved nothing, whoop... I'll try to update sooner though!
> 
> Greetings! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Me: «It's summer, I can write happy stuff now!»  
> Also me: «Writes this and hide myself in a cold dark corner.»
> 
> Connor will be pretty OC in this story :D And there also will be much smut and sad stuff in this story.
> 
>  
> 
> My Twitter for prompts and updates, yo:  
> (@JonesWods): https://twitter.com/JonesWods?s=09


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